~:.:~
Gibbs had brought the worn shoe box home, having yet to open its lid and discover its contents. He forced himself to believe whatever lay in that box was not going to have any significance towards the case, and not so important to open it those very seconds. Instead, he dumped a glass full of nuts and screws out, wiped the inside with a rag, and filled it to the brim with bourbon, avoiding the box all together. He slowly washed away his thoughts. He had never been in this dilemma before. He was so caught in between, any side he took was wrong; his gut told him Carmen was guilty, but something else in his body told him otherwise.
He began to replay all the facts in his mind again: Carmen join NCIS just after another woman and child were murdered; she personally requested a position on his team only days after the first murdered a year ago; she had the expertise of a physician, the intelligence of the human body—easily knowing the way of acting unseen—knowing ways to never be discovered; she had the experience and head of a marine—physically and mentally trained; when confronted by Tony, she fled NCIS and her apartment; her apartment was spotless of any trace of her, except the box that rested on his worktable.
She could have done it. She had all the facts against her.
Gibbs suddenly thought back to the conversation he had had with Ducky before calling Ziva to tell her to bring Carmen in.
"Tell me about Carmen," he had asked the doctor.
Ducky shook his head, "So now you want to talk about her. You know, dear boy, if you weren't such a cold, pissed off old man, she would have confided in you earlier. But you pushed her away."
"So she confessed to you!?"
"Yes, but—"
What would have Ducky said if he had not interrupted him. Gibbs pulled out his cell and dialed Ducky's number. He had agreed to meet with him.
Gibbs had just poured the rest of the bourbon in his glass when he heard the steps creak behind him. He turned to find the doctor descending the stairs. He took off his hat and placed it on a pointed corner of his boat.
"What is to be discussed this very late evening," Ducky said, pulling out a stool from beneath the worktable. He sat down and turned to the younger man besides him.
"Duck I need to-to know—know about her. What she—she told you," Gibbs slurred, lowering his glass from his lips; he just realized how drunk he sounded. He fished for a stool underneath the workbench, just barely able to kept himself from falling over. While Gibbs fumbled with the stool, Ducky spied another bottle of bourbon and grabbed it, hiding it in an empty drawer.
"Duck you were trying—the last time we talked—to tell me about Carmen and her problem."
"Problem, you ask? Dear Jethro, I believe you're a mite too drunk to be discussing the case, especially Carmen." Ducky made the motion to leave, but Gibbs grabbed his arm.
"Please, I—its has been eating at me—all these mysteries about her and the case. You know I am perfectly okay—while drunk—"
Ducky sat back down, eying the man beside him. He nodded, "Alright, Jethro, but you must swear, once I have told you, to prove Carmen innocent before proving her guilty."
Gibbs nodded his head, "Swear, Duck." Gibbs made a motion over his heart with crossed fingers, "Cross by heart."
Ducky rolled his eyes, and signed at his co-workers persistence. He would rather prefer to wait until morning to discuss this matter.
"These passed few months I have kept a very watchful eye on Carmen. Ever since the incident with Tony and you involving rule number twelve—" Ducky rolled his eyes. "—I've watch a dramatic change happen in her. She had suddenly changed from this confident, witty woman to this quiet, depressed loner. It wasn't gradually at toll. It was as if a switch in her head had flipped off—yes, indeed I kept an eye on her. Especially after all that you had put her through."
Gibbs tilted his head towards the doctor, frowning. How did he—
"How did I know you had abused her? Simply because you are you; a hard-ass to anything that moves, especially anything involving change. And no, Jethro, she never spoke of it to me. But I am not idiot nor blind—that bruise on her wrist didn't magically appear on its own. As I recall you had done the same to Fornell back-in the day."
"I'm not proud of what I had done—something inside just erupted and out it went. Unfortunately Carmen was trapped in a box with me."
"I suspect so," he replied, shifting his weight on the stool. "I watched her—bottle everything up—never speaking of it again. That plus her past; it was a recipe for destruction."
"Her past, Duck, please," he said, trying to avoid anymore of himself.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I want to you to be aware of what toll you brought upon her." He paused, watching Gibbs' reaction. It was solemn and fearful. Ducky knew this was the best thing for him to hear. "You tormented and taunted her, Jethro! With your mind games. For what? To establish your power and dominance?—everything has to be under your control, and if it is not, you make it so!"
It seemed, at where Gibbs was seating, Ducky was not only venting about Carmen, but all past happenings. It seemed Ducky had been bottling in some feelings himself, too. And they were now exploded out of him.
"Jethro, I have watched you as I have watched Carmen—you have feelings for her, don't you? Or so you think. I believe you have confused guilt and the yearn for forgiveness as love." Ducky studied the man before him. "Since the beginning of her employment, you've grown crueler and crueler towards her. And there is only two reason I can think of, that would cause you to act so: one, you are a sadistic man—just wanting to cause pain and suffering—but I rather doubt that."
Gibbs sucked the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to stay quiet.
"Two. You're in love with her. But considering your little history together, she couldn't love you back so—if you can't have happiness, neither can she. So you torment her. Hatred and love are next door neighbors—it gives you similar thrills." Ducky stopped and watched the man before him; his head was hung low in his hands. "You're a trouble man with a troubled past Jethro—just the same as Carmen. You two more similar than you think."
"Your right, Duck. I am a cold, piss off man. With a past that has fueled my future. I've done this to myself."
"I'm glad you've accepted your misgivings."
"I've known quite for sometime—I just needed to hear it—I'm so sorry Ducky. But please, tell me about Carmen. Had she been the one who—who—"
Ducky nodded his head. "I should have seen it earlier—the signs. But I let my personal opinions wash over my professional duty." Ducky looked down at the floor. "But she grew on me Gibbs. I was blinded by admiration and affection for her. She had my sympathies."
"You had no way of knowing."
"It's what do—it is my job to read people. And I let my emotions suave what was actually happening." Ducky nodded his head as if force himself away from his guilt and proceed about Carmen. He signed and continued. "She came to me about the truth—well half of the truth."
"Whad did she tell you?"
Ducky momentarily paused, as if to prepare himself for the truth.
"When one speaks of childhood trauma, it involves a range of negative experiences including physical, sexual, and mental abuse. Carmen endured this horrible childhood. When she was thirteen, her mother and her were kidnapped, tortures, and beaten. She has had to endure the sight of her mother being murdered in front of her. At the time her mother was a marine—on an undercover assignment. She had become compromised and they came after her."
"Who?"
"Carmen insisted the same serial killer you are after now. . . . Who may now not even exist if Carmen is the one terrorizing." Ducky dropped his head. So much made sense, but Ducky desperately wanted Carmen innocent, but as he continued he started to convince himself.
"So he came after her. They used Carmen against her mother until she gave in. Her mother told her to run and go to the authorities. Her mother had told her about her mission. But unfortunately the people who initiated her mother's mission were not happy at all that a thirteen year old knew of their mission. They couldn't afford a liability that like. So they deemed her as emotionally and mentally traumatized—told her no one was believing a word she said."
Gibbs stared at the floor thinking. He had no idea Carmen had lived through what she had.
"Eventually her mother's existence disappeared completely. All files and records on her mother and her undercover mission vanished. And so the cover-up was created."
Gibbs shook his head," Who initiated the mission?" Gibbs couldn't believe they had done that to a little thirteen year girl. "Who was Carmen's mother working for?"
"I don't know. I tried to retrieve that information, but I'm afraid all documentation was destroyed twenty years ago. But what I am sure of is what ever was the purpose of that mission, the agency took great precautions to kept the truth from getting out."
"What happened to Carmen—after her mother's death."
Ducky shook his head, "She went back to her father who abused alcohol and drugs, and her—poor girl didn't stand a chance. . . . I'm afraid we've lost her." Ducky lowered his head on his balled up fists. He had considered her as his longer lost daughter. Over the months she was comfortable to confine in him.
"These experiences," Ducky continued, although with sad expression on his face. "She had endured—would have considerably negative effects on both her mental and physical health. And also future social encounters. . . . Childhood abuse has been known to be linked with depression, substance abuse, personality disorder, dissociation, and—and suicidal tendencies."
Gibbs followed his every word, listening to Ducky as he dug Carmen her grave.
"I regret to inform that it is very possible that those psychotic phenomena's—those killings of women and child, has been a direct result of her childhood. . . . If this is the case, it is too late to save her now." Ducky closed his eyes. "She is a textbook psychotic."
~:.:~
Tony and Ziva had drove back to NCIS and were sitting at there desks, stunned at the turn of events that had conspired in one day. They told McGee to go home, but as Tony and Ziva made no attempt to leave, neither did he. They all just sat, staring at the flooring thinking about Carmen.
"I am still not convinced Carmen is behind this," Ziva said to no one specific.
"What more proof do you need? It is no coincidence that she had requested to transfer to NCIS the day of the first killing. And then, show up the day, we chased down the guy."
"That is not enough to convince me or a jury, Tony. Why are you so determined to see her executed?"
Tony clenched down on his jaw.
"Its personal, isn't it. . . . You never got over that blackmail thing, didn't you."
"She ruined my relationship with Gibbs."
"And how, exactly did she do that?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you."
"No, but you will have to, to Gibbs."
Tony smiled and leaned back in his chair with contempt. "You want proof? I'll find it!"
"And where are you going," she asked as she watched him stand up and start to head to the elevators."
"To find proof."
~:.:~
"You had said something about a personality disorder? What do you mean?"
"Most likely a split personality disorder in her case. One with a traumatic childhood often hides themselves behind a mask—to hide their true identity. Carmen had two sides; the normal and the psychotic. She had pulled the wool over all of us—especially me."
Gibbs nodded and turned his head. He caught a glimpse of the shoe box he had forgotten. He grabbed it and set it before him.
"What is that?" asked Ducky, curiously staring at it.
"It was it Carmen's apartment—hidden in her closet. I haven't opened it yet."
"And what do you fear to find?"
Gibbs shrugged his shoulder, "suppose we'll find out together." He suddenly lifted the lid. Inside the box had an assortment of items: a picture of her and her parents in front a waterfall, all smiling and laughing, dating before her parent's divorce; an old fairground ticket with a picture of her and her mother clipped to it; and then Gibbs pulled out a heap of newspaper clips. He handed some to Ducky.
"Marine Caren Wilson, 33, of Washington D.C., died May 7, 1992. . . . Yesterday was her mother's twenty death anniversary." Ducky added sadly. ". . . died, May 7, 1992. She had come home in to a robbery-in-progress and was unfortunately murdered—there's the cover-up." Ducky signed and settle down the article. "Is there anything else?"
Gibbs shuffled the rest of the articles together and found something underneath him. He pulled a thick, vanilla creamed folder from the bottom. He glanced at Ducky who was staring back at him. He opened the folder. They were both surprised to see what was in the file.
"Are those pictures from the crimes scenes?" Ducky asked as Gibbs pulled photos from the file. He shuffled through them, scanning the photo as he went.
"Yes, but—they are only pictures of the red items left behind at the crime scene: a red blanket, a red headed doll, strawberries, and—a red rose."
"Carmen had told me that when she tried to escape—her attacker pulled a red ribbon from her hair—that red ribbon was placed in the dairy of the little girl who we just discovered."
"For all we know she had wrote that message in the dairy and placed the ribbon there herself."
Ducky nodded, and asked, "is there anything else in the folder."
Gibbs turned back to the folder, "just a lot paperwork, I don't know what its about." Gibbs lifted the folder off the table and suddenly a loose piece of paper fell the folder. Both of them watched in flutter to the floor. Gibbs leaned over and picked it up. "Operation Praying Mantis question mark."
"Do you think Carmen was trying to figure out her mother's secret mission?—"
Both men turned their heads towards the stairs on account of a creak. They saw Tony shuffling down the stairs.
"Am I interrupting?"
"Oh not at all, dear boy," Ducky said shuffling all the papers back into the shoe box. "It's late—I was just leaving. Jethro, I'll see you tomorrow, earlier. At MTAC." He mouthed.
Tony eyed the shoebox stuffed beneath Ducky's arm then remembered it was Ducky, and looked away.
"Good-night Anthony."
"Night Doc." He waited until Ducky closed the door before turning to Gibbs.
"Whats on your mind Tony?" Gibbs asked standing from his stool. "Drink?"
"No. Thanks. I need a clear head. . . . " He watched his boss nod and grab a glass. He opened his cupboard and frowned; he could have sworn he had another bottle of bourbon.
"Why haven't you yelled at me?"
Gibbs turned and faced him, "For what?"
"For disobeying your orders and for going over your head."
Gibbs smiled. "I not going to punish you for following your gut. . . You did what I couldn't."
"So you believe Carmen has been behind everything?"
Gibbs hesitated. He looked at Tony with sad eyes. Tony didn't know about Carmen's past. Then gave him a small nod.
"Go home, Tony. Get some sleep. We'll start our search tomorrow."
~:.:~
The morning had come too fast. Before Gibbs knew it, he was meeting Ducky in the bullpen and was walking towards MTAC.
"Last night, before I went to bed, I made a phone call—requesting an urgent audience with the Sectary of the Navy. I was informed he would be in board meeting all morning."
"So how exactly—"
"I bribed his assistant," smirked Ducky. "In a few moments his assistant will inform him of an emergency that requires his attention immediately and will he pop up on that screen."
"And what happens after he learns it was all a ploy?"
"That's your area of expertise."
At the moment the wide screen began to focus on a figure: The Secretary of the Navy stared back at them.
"Special Agent Gibbs?" he said surprised to him staring back at him. This really wasn't an emergency. "What the hell do you want? You know you pulled me away from a very important board meeting!"
"So I have been told," Gibbs said staring at Ducky. The older man smirked at him.
"I need to know about a mission initiated twenty years ago."
"I wasn't in office then, Gibbs, surely you knew that."
"Yes, but I'm sure this secret was passed down."
The sectary of the Navy screw up his face.
"Operation Praying Manis." He stated plainly. Gibbs watched as the Secretary of the Navy's fell.
"Only a select few of men and women know that name. There is no possible way of you knowing that name. It is classified information and only need-to-know."
Gibbs raised his brow, "Its still ongoing?" Gibbs knew, just by the way he had answered the first answer, he wasn't going to divulge any information, but instead he watch closely to his reaction.
"Classified information." He suddenly turned very red. "I don't know how the hell you managed to come across that name, but if you don't drop this investigation, it will be a breech of protocol. And I will have you arrested for conspiracy against the Navy. And I'll get your friend at the F.B.I as a co-conspirator—"
The secretary of Navy dissolved from the screen.
Gibbs turned back to Ducky. "That was easier than I thought."
"He was referring to Fornell as your friend at the F.B.I." Ducky nodded his head in understatement. "He had thought Fornell had told you about the operation—Fornell was one of those 'select few'."
Gibbs smiled.
~:.:~
Tony, McGee, and Ziva had arrived and were all sitting around the bullpen, awaiting for Gibbs' commands. Suddenly they heard his voice, as well as Ducky's. They looked up and saw them leaving MTAC. They followed them until they stepped into the bullpen.
"I suppose I shall have to re-examine the bodies Carmen had assisted me with." Ducky left for autopsy.
Gibbs sat down and starting working, but felt three pairs of eyes on him. He looked up to find his team staring back at him.
"Do you really believe Carmen did it?" McGee asked suddenly.
Gibbs didn't answer. "Tony put out a bolo on Carmen Wilson. McGee track her cell. Ziva, paperwork. Go through all the documents she may have encountered."
"What are you going to do boss?" McGee asked as he watched Gibbs stand up and head for the elevator.
"I have somewhere to be."
~:.:~
"Agent Fornell is busy at the moment—if you'd like to wait—"
Gibbs passed Fornell's assistance and opened his office door. He found Fornell speaking the phone, and hanged up when he entered.
"Gibbs? What do I owe this pleasure? Have another ex-wive you need me to marry—take the heat off ya?"
Gibbs smiled and sat down.
"How you doin' old timer? How's Emily?"
"She's fine, and you?—heard you've got a stray employee on your hands."
"News travels fast." Gibbs smiled absentmindedly.
"What are you doin' here Gibbs?" Fornell asked, suddenly serious.
Gibbs stopped smiling, and nodded. "Operation Praying Mantis." As he had watched the Sectary of the Navy, he watched Fornell, except there was no surprise shown on his face.
"Ah, hell, Gibbs—you're going to get both of us fired!"
Gibbs just gave him stare.
"You see, only just a little bit ago, I received this nasty little phone call from the Secretary of Navy—you can imagine how it went."
Gibbs nodded with a smirk on his face, but then it faded away. Fornell loved this job too much to help him. He started to get up, "Thanks for you time, Fornell—"
"Well don't you wanna know what I told him!?'
Gibbs stopped and turned towards his friend.
"I gave him my word I wouldn't divulge a single shred of information to you."
Gibbs shook his head, and started to leave again.
"And then I told him he could go to hell."
This stopped Gibbs in his tracks.
"I've been waiting for twenty years for someone to come along and open up this can of worms."
Gibbs titled his head, studying the man in front of him.
"I was one of those 'select few' who were debriefed on that operation. . . .What do you want to know?"
Gibbs sat back down, still staring at him, dumbfounded.
"Well, come on. I didn't put a target on my back for nothing, did I?"
Gibbs smiled, "What was the purpose of the operation."
"Homeland Security, F.B.I. and NCIS came to together and initiated the operation. The purpose was to locate and terminate terrorism."
"We do this on a daily basis. Why all the secrecy?"
"You know that funny little saying in the movies, We don't negotiate with terrorists? Well that went out the window. A highly wanted-Russian terrorist was released from prison and given sanctuary from the government. On one condition. That he'd catch terrorists for the United States. He was good—obedient there for a while. After a while we excepted betrayal."
"Ya think!?"
"So we sent two agents in—assess the damage. Everything was fine for a while until one of them got themselves compromised. Under extreme torture he divulged information about our other agent. Caren Wilson—one of the best dam agents I ever saw. The Russian went after her. Ended up taking her and her daughter, Carmen I think it was. Poor girl. Her mother had told her about the case—to run to the authorities and tell them. As you can imagine, we couldn't have a little girl ranting about our top secret operation. We lead people to believe she was making up everything up." Fornell shook her head. "What we put that little girl through."
"What happened to the operation after that."
"Nothing. The operation went ahead as nothing ever happened. But we were finding out the Russian was raking up a quite a death toll. And when I heard word that we weren't going to do anything about I quit.
~:.:~
When Gibbs had left Fornell's office, he knew he was still withholding information about the operation. Gibbs demanded to know the Russian's name, but it was useless. Fornell stated it would have been impossible to track him down. If Operation Praying Mantis had gotten out the public, they would have had a riot on their hands.
Evening was approaching with no word from Carmen. The bolo was a long shot. And her cell was most likely discarded. And the paperwork was pointless. The team was getting no where with the case. Gibbs sent his team home.
And once again, Gibbs found himself in his basement, working on his boat. He had been working for something before he heard the creaks and croaks of his steps. He turned around and was surprised to see her standing before him—Carmen.
He couldn't guess whether she knew he knew about her past.
She appeared cool as a cucumber.
"Where have you been? You've been gone for few days." He said walking over to his worktable. He set down the tool in his hand.
"Oh, you know, around."
"Why are you here?"
"You know I'm not an idiot, right? We both know it would have been fool to go back to that apartment whilst bugged and under surveillance. . . . Come on, you abused me better than that." She referred to the quote, 'you taught me better than that'.
Gibbs watched her—she was an entirely different person. He thought back on his and Ducky's conversation. She was no longer the timid, witty woman he thought she was. Instead she appeared confident, arrogant—reckless, and emotional unattached. And very deceptive.
"Drink?" he asked, trying to divert the conservation.
"You know before I started working with you—I did a bit of research," she said ignoring his offer.
"Oh really," he said, leaning his back against the edge of his work table, sipping on his bourbon.
She suddenly checked her watch.
"And what did you discover?"
"Oh plenty," she assured him with hint of sarcasm in her voice. She floated her way towards, playing and observing the tools he had left on his boat. "I find out some stuff on you—wanna hear?"
Gibbs pursed his lips.
"You don't take orders very well—authority isn't your thing, unless its you, authorizing." She picked up a chisel, and ran her finger along the sharp blade. "I made quite sure to dull myself down—you know, be a good student, always listen to the teacher." She smiled and put the chisel down.
Gibbs followed her very move as she circled herself around his boat. He stood, still leaning back against the counter. He made no attempts to stop her.
"And another thing. Paperwork—screw it!"
Gibbs smirked, "paperwork, huh?"
"Oh, yes—I bypassed it completely."
Gibbs suddenly wasn't smiling anymore, "what's the point of telling me all this?"
"Oh don't worry, I'm almost there, don't finish on me now."
Gibbs swallowed and licked his lips, watching her fiddling around his boat.
"Another thing I learned about you—was that you have this thing for red-heads—a problem, you could imagine as I am naturally a red head. I had to dye my hair."
Gibbs cocked his head.
"Imagining me as a red head? I thought about giving you that lustful fantasy of a red headed woman running around the bullpen, but I decided against it."
Carmen had stopped at the corner of the boat, closet to Gibbs.
"And then I came across a bit of information that striked me as interesting. You like women with a certain . . . dominatrix quality—one who questions your every command—kinky, Gibbs. I decided to check that off my list. You see, I needed to stay under your radar—just fade into the background. But you just wouldn't let it happen." Carmen had stepped closer and closer to Gibbs until she was within inches from him.
"Something just had to happen that would result you, giving me a tongue lashing—don't you see Gibbs? Tony was right. I've been playing you—I've had you wrapped around my finger since the beginning."
"So you were the one behind those innocent woman and children," he asked softly. If he hadn't, he'd have ever urge to charge her. "You murdered them."
"You must not have listened to Dr. Mallard very well. I'm psychotic—it's fun when you don't have a conscious—I'm messed up Gibbs. I watched my mother die in front of me. I was abused by my father daily. My actions were kind of warranted."
"Fornell did say you were mentally traumatized."
Carmen studied him. She thought intensely about what he just said. Fornell?
"That's putting it lightly." Carmen smiled and checked her watch again.
"And what about McGee and Ziva? And the letter? Things aren't adding up, Carmen."
"Ooo so many questions, so little time." Carmen made a motion towards the stairs, but Gibbs quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. He placed his other hand on the small of her back, keeping her pushed against his body.
"I'm not . . . letting you . . . go," he said slowly, shaking his head, as if to wake himself up.
"Your kind of, going to have to."
Gibbs suddenly felt this wave of dizziness wash over him. He released his grip on her, and stumbled back.
"You . . . drugged me?"
"Well you said it yourself. You weren't going to let me go. How else was I to escape."
He felt weak—the drug was about to knock him out completely.
"Why'd. . . Why'd you come tonight!?" Gibbs shook his head, desperately trying to stay awake as longer possible.
Carmen smiled and walked back over to him. She held her hand against his chest for a moment, then gave him a forcefully push against the wall. She pressed her body against him and wrapped her hand around his neck. She leaned in, pressing her wet lips against his ear. She exhaled her hot breath against his cool skin. He suddenly buckled against her. The only thing holding himself up was her.
"I suppose I just wanted to see you just one last time."
She retreated back enough so their faces were inches apart. She stared into her blue orbs, as he stared back into hers. She leaned in as if she was going to kiss him, then turned her head, kissing his cheek.
"Good-bye Gibbs."
~:.:~
;So the evidence seems pretty clear that Carmen has been behind this whole thing! Or is it. Or Has everything been twisted to fit that theory. Or is Carmen purposely leading everyone to believe she is psychotic? And why did Carmen come to see Gibbs? She only seemed interested in gaining a little tad bit of information from him, but what?
. . .
;Two Sides . . . The turning point of the story! Hey back for another chapter! This is going to be an amazing one. I am so proud of myself with this one. So much stuff to learn. I really hope you like it. I made this one extremely long because I've had amazing support from you guys! Enjoy and please review!
;I can't forget to thank my awesome reviewers! : Ryn of Magic, Nymphi16, KrazyCookieRaider, dg101, stAnd out - SHOUT OUT, bored411, and Thickalicious.
Love you guys!
;Oh for those we have been with me for a while, I've update chapter 1-7. They are now worth a read through again.
